


Recreate History

by ElementalGhosting



Category: Hermitcraft RPF, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Real World, Gen, Memories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:54:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25970902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElementalGhosting/pseuds/ElementalGhosting
Summary: After Xisuma gets stuck in an alternate reality where none of the hermits know of Minecraft, he has to reunite the crew and introduce them to the game.Do this in three months, and he’s safe. Take longer than that (or die), and he’s screwed.He signed a contract, after all.
Comments: 13
Kudos: 35





	Recreate History

The first thing Xisuma did when he came to was throw up on the couch.

The pain felt like someone had driven a railroad spike in between his eyes and then ran him over with a truck. His whole body hurt, but his head seemed to have received the brunt of the impact. 

Speaking of, what happened? The last thing he could remember doing was playing Minecraft in his apartment, guiding the hermits into Season 7. 

Wait. 

This wasn’t his apartment. He would remember having this nice of a couch, as well as this spacious room and these well-polished hardwood floors. The pounding in his head subsided enough for him to glimpse a large, detailed painting at the other end of the room, probably worth more than Xisuma’s whole flat. 

Oh boy, he had just thrown up on some rich guy’s couch. 

“So, you’re finally awake?”

X whipped his head around, cricking his neck in the process. “Who..?” He stopped in the middle of his question, his mouth dropping open as the mystery figure walked into his view. 

He recognized his face from streams, and his voice lined up perfectly with that of the hermit that Xisuma knew. 

“TFC?!”

The host held up a hand, silencing the inquisitive admin. His face creased into a small, disgusted frown as his eyes found X’s lunch, splattered all over the velvet couch. Xisuma unconsciously scooted further away from the mess. 

“You hit your head on your desk and got knocked out, so I took you here and pathed you up. I found your inhaler, but your glasses were broken beyond repair so I got you new ones.” He reached into the pocket of the jeans and pulled out two items, an inhaler and a pair of new, square-shaped glasses. 

X plucked the eyewear from the other hermit’s hand, shoving them onto his face and allowing himself a grin as his vision righted itself. “Gosh... thanks,” he said, slipping the inhaler into his back pocket. “By the way, how did you get into my apartment and know that I needed help?”

The other hermit shrugged. “I didn’t. You just kind of... appeared here, with your head leaking quite a bit of blood. I found your inhaler in one of your pockets.” As X made to open his mouth again, Tin cut him off. “Can you walk? I need to clean up the couch.”

Xisuma nodded, leaning on an armrest for support to stand up from his seat. He stayed close to the couch as TFC went around the corner and came back with a pack of paper towels and Febreze, as well as a spray for cleaning materials such as cloth. 

“Do you remember what happened?” questioned the older hermit, facing away from the injured admin as he wiped down the couch and its surrounding area. 

X rubbed the back of his neck, looking embarrassed. “Well... not really. I remember going into the nether portal for Season 7 and that’s it.” As an afterthought, he added, “I also had this wack-ass dream. It’s probably not important because I was injured, so you don’t need to worry about it.”

TFC, however, looked interested. Stacking the dirty paper towels in an easily-accessible pile on the floor, he turned back around to X. “No, tell me about the dream. It might help with one of my current... predicaments.”

Xisuma raised a curious eyebrow but said nothing, intrigued by the information that the other was keeping from him. Was it personal issues or something more sinister?

Realizing that the other man was looking at him expectantly, the admin snapped out of his Sherlock Holmes-style fantasies and began to explain what he saw, struggling to remember the finer details of what happened. It had started to fade from X’s mind already. 

“So... there was this really loud voice, right? And it started saying stuff about the magic of friendship, classic movie villain shit. It was like, “ **YOU CANNOT SURVIVE WITHOUT YOUR FRIENDS, JUST AS YOUR FRIENDS CANNOT SURVIVE WITHOUT YOU** ” and “ **THEY ARE LOST. FIND THEM, AND BRING THEM BACK TO WHERE THEY BELONG** ”. He took a deep breath. 

“Anything else?” prompted TFC.

“Well, yeah, actually. I think there was this contract? I signed it, obviously. It said that I was putting my life on the line for my friends, and I needed to gather every single hermit in three months and “recreate history”.” He punctuated the last two words with sarcastic air quotes. 

“You signed the contract? Are you mental?”

“What’s the problem? It was just some stupid dream!”

The older hermit sat down on the newly-cleaned couch, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “I think there is some truth to what was said in your dream, Xisuma. It would explain the current situation.”

“Wait, hold up! What situation?”

TFC cast him an irritated glare, reaching into his other pocket to take out his phone. He tossed him the device, the YouTube app already open. 

“Search up any of the hermits’ names, right now.”

With a worried glance in Tin’s direction, Xisuma typed ‘ DocM77 ’ into the search bar. 

Nothing came up. 

“What the fuck?” he muttered, half to himself. 

He tried refreshing the page, closing the app, doing everything that he possibly could to find the name of that German Minecrafter on the video-streaming site. 

He tried searching for some of the other hermits, such as  MumboJumbo ,  falsesymmetry and  EthosLab . Same issue. 

It’s like all of their accounts had never existed. 

He finally tried searching his own name,  Xisumavoid . If this was some stupid prank, surely they wouldn’t go so far as to delete his own channel?

Wrong. 

Everything was gone. 

He felt tears prick at his eyes as he stared at the spot where his 1.5 million subscribers should have gone. 

His years of dedication, his main source of income, his pride and joy. 

“W-what...?” he managed to choke out, gritting his teeth to stop tears from leaking from his moist eyes. 

“My point.” TFC got up from the couch, snatching the phone away from the admin before he dropped it onto the floor. “Ready to listen?”

X gave a silent nod in response.

“Alright, ny theory is that we somehow ended up in an alternate reality where none of the hermits know about Minecraft. Why us specifically? I don’t know. Point is, Xisuma, I’m pretty sure you have three months to reunite everyone and introduce them to the game before something... not pleasant happens to you, according to the contract. If you don’t believe me, check YouTube again,” he added, seeing that the admin had pulled a skeptical expression again. 

Xisuma raised his hands exasperatedly. “Fine, I believe you! But how am I going to do go about doing that? I don’t know where any of the hermits live, where they work, or even if their names are the same! They could be dead, for all we know!”

“You can’t afford to lose hope,” said TFC sternly. “If you follow the trail, you can gather all of them, I’m sure.”

“And where would I start?” 

The older hermit gave him a smile, the first genuine one that X had seen ever since he awoke at this strange house. 

“Well, isn’t it obvious? Nashville, Tennessee!”

**_Have has this idea in the back of my mind since forever, only now decided to write it. Idk, we’ll see how people like this preview of the story._ **

**_If you enjoyed, please be sure to leave a kudos or comment! It really helps out the author!_ **


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